Of Faeries and Unicorns
by Sareleine Sardee
Summary: A Fifth Year American witch transfers to Hogwarts. My first attempt at HP fanfic, don't eat me!
1. Default Chapter

The Great Hall was less spectacular without the hundreds of levitating candleds and long house tables ladden with food. Or, at least, so she assumed. Looking up at the wispy-cloud ceiling, though, it was still pretty interesting. Of course, she knew the ceiling was just a bewitchment, but that wasn't the only thing that perked her interest. The ancient, solid stone structure of the castle was impressive. She had never been in a building that had such a heaving feeling of time before. It was almost as if giant gears loomed above her, slowly creeking and turning. It was a little creepy. Absently, she wondered how many generations of witches and wizards had studied magick here. For that matter, though, she didn't know how many students studied magick here now. Probably not many foreign ones. At least, that was the impression she had been given. It didn't really matter, though, did it? This was her school now.  
  
"Hogwarts," she said quietly to herself, "School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."  
  
She stood there alone for a moment, when a voice came from behind her, "Miss Tretski?"  
  
The girl turned around to see an official looking woman with her hair pulled back in a tight bun. The woman smiled, "I'm Professor McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress of the school and Head of Gryffindor House. Welcome to Hogwarts, Miss Tretski."  
  
"Hi," the girl smiled back with a bit of trepidation. "My name's Sareleine, Sareleine Tretski." Of course, the woman probably already knew that.  
  
"It's not often that we get transfer students, "McGonagall explained, "espcially so far in their education. I understand that you're in your fifth year?"  
  
"Mm," Sareleine nodded.  
  
"Normally, we sort our new students into a school house the first day of school before the feast. There are four houses: Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Slytherin, and Ravenclaw. Due to your position, however, the Headmaster thought it wise to sort you today, in private. And I do have to say that I agree. If you will follow me?"  
  
Professor McGonagall turned and started walking down the corridor, Sareleine following her.  
  
"I do hope you like it here in England," the professor said in an obvious attempt at small talk.  
  
"I only just arrived yesterday. But I can't say that I have any complaints," Sareleine answered, then added as an afterthought, "Though I do wish my accent didn't give me away."  
  
McGonagall smiled knowingly. "I wouldn't worry, our students have had a little exposure to foreign students in the past. And I daresay that you are a little less foreign."  
  
The girl just smiled a little, not quite sure what to say to that. So they just walked in silence for a little ways, until they came to a large, stone gargoyle.  
  
"Here we are," McGonagall said curtly. "Pepermint Gumdrop."  
  
The large gargoyle blinked its heavy eyelids. Its stone lips curled slowly into a toothy smile and it lept to the side, exposing a twisted stone stairway. It wasn't just any stairway, though, as the stairs moved on their own accord, much like Muggle escalators. McGonagall gestured up the stairs and the two of the ascended upwards. The spiraling stairway ended at a large, oaken door. On it was an intricate brass knocker, also in the shape of a gargoyle. Professor McGonagall rapped once on the knocker and the large door swung lightly open.  
  
Sareleine stepped into a beautiful, circular office. There were so many different things for her to take in that she had a hard time not doing it all at once. The thing that caught her eye the most, though, was a beautiful red-gold bird-roughly the size of a swan-perched by a sunfilled window. It blinked its bright eyes at her. She knew what it was: a Phoenix.  
  
But before she had time to dwell on the magnificent bird, McGonagall beckoned her over to a stool with a shabby, beat-up old hat on it. Sareleine's eyes studied it for a moment. It was covered in patches and, to be honest, she had never seen a hat quite so...dingy.  
  
"This," started McGonagall, "is the Sorting Hat. You put it on your head and it will sort you into the house in which you belong." There was a pause as Sareleine stared increduously at the hat. "Go on, then, sit down."  
  
Sareleine slid into the stool, reluctantly pulling the Sorting Hat onto her head.  
  
"Oh!" a voice exclaimed in her mind: the hat. "You're a little old for me, aren't you? ...Wait, oh yes, now I see..."  
  
She waited patiently for the hat to make a conclusion, trying to ignore the invasive feeling of having something look into her head..  
  
"Well, you're certainly clever enough for Ravenclaw... but there's something in you stronger than your intellegence...courage and strength...yes, a strength that you've needed, haven't you?...yes, well, I suppose I ought to put you in... GRYFFINDOR!"  
  
Professor McGonagall smiled as she took the hat from Sareleine's head. She had said she was the Head of Gryffindor House, hadn't she? Well, that would explain the look of satisfaction on her face.  
  
"I'll show you to the Gryffindor Common Room. Tomorrow you'll sit with the Gryffindor table at the ceremon and feast. Your scheduel-"  
  
"The ceremony," Sareleine interupted, "that's when my brother will be sorted?"  
  
McGonagall looked thoroughly taken aback by being interupted by a student. "As I understand it," she answered. "He will be starting his first year, will he not?"  
  
"Just turned eleven last week," the girl grinned.  
  
"Well, then yes, you'll see him tomorrow. Tonight you'll be staying in the Gryffindor dormitory, alone, I'm afraid. The rest of the students will be arriving tomorrow. Your scheduel will be given to you tomorrow, as well. If you have any trouble finding any of your classes, your house prefects should be able to help you. I do hope you enjoy it here at Hogwarts, Miss Tretski." 


	2. Rabbid Rabbits.

The Great Hall was bustling with newly arrived students. Harry was ecstatic to be back at school. It wasn't as though he had a bad summer-in fact, he had gone to stay in the Burrow two weeks in-but Harry was always glad to return to Hogwarts; it was like home.  
  
Harry, Ron, and Hermione filed in with all the other second through seventh year students. They took their seats at the Gryffindor table as the first years were herded up to the front of the hall. They all looked excited and scared-and very wet. First years always seemed to be wet, didn't they? What with the boat ride over the lake. Harry, however, was perfectly content taking the carriages.  
  
"Hey, Harry," Ron judged him out of this thoughts. "Who's that girl?" He nodded to a girl sitting alone a few seats down. "I've never seen her before and she doesn't look like a first year. And if she is, someone ought to tell her she's to be up there with the others!"  
  
Harry looked over to where Ron had motioned. There was a girl sitting there that Harry had certainly never seen, either. She had long, purpley-plum hair that Harry could only assumed was dyed. Strangely, though, she also had bright purple eyes. Harry blinked, not sure that he'd gotten that right. But, yes, the girls' eyes were vivid purple. To add to the effect, she had outlined them heavily in black eyeliner and wore silver lipstick to boot. The whole thing gave her a rather fantical appearance, almost inhuman. Odd.  
  
"I've no idea," Harry answered, "I've never seen her either."  
  
"Well, you know," Hermione was quick to chime in, "you could say hello to her, rather than just gawk at her like an animal in the zoo." With that, Hermione turned promptly to the girl, putting on a bright, sociable smile. Harry knew this was Hermione's way of showing him and Ron that she could do everything properly. "Hello! I'm Hermione Granger. Are you new to Hogwarts?"  
  
"Hello," the girl returned, smiling. She looked as though she appreciated the attention. "Yes, I am, actually. Transfer student from America." Harry didn't think she needed to say where she was from; her accent-or maybe lack-there-of-gave it away. "My name's Sareleine Tretski, by the way."  
  
"This is Ron Weasly, and Harry Potter," Hermione told her, gesturing to both Harry and Ron in turn. The girl looked curiously at Harry for a moment, but she didn't gawk like so many people did. She only quietly met his eyes for a moment. "A transfer student?" Hermione continued. "Hogwarts hasn't had a transfer student since 1837. They're very rare."  
  
No doubt, Hermione had read that in Hogwarts, A History. Deciding he didn't want to seem like a mute, Harry asked, "What brings you to Britain?"  
  
"Oh, well, my family moved here. My mother and step-dad are Aurors," Sareleine answered. "They came here because of, well, You-Know-Who. We could have stayed in the States, my brother and I, but they didn't want to have us that far away. So we all came here. I'm don't really mind transferring, but my brother's a little upset about it. But then, he's only just now starting his first year, so I guess he's not transferring."  
  
"Step-dad?" Ron interjected, looking bemused. He didn't know much about Muggles affairs.  
  
"Yeah," she answered matter-of-factly. "My mom remarried after my birth-father died."  
  
Harry looked abruptly to her again. He didn't know any other student who had lost a parent...or both. The closest he knew of was Neville's parents-but he wasn't supposed to know about that. He wondered how this girls' father died, but thought this wasn't the right time to ask. Instead, he merely said, "I'm sorry."  
  
She shrugged it off with a bit of a smile. It wasn't a real smile, he could tell; Harry guessed that it was a forced one that she developed over the years as a way of dealing with pity.  
  
Before any of them could say anymore, their attention was stolen up to the front of the hall. McGonagall was calling the first years up; the Sorting had begun. The first student called up-Chelsea Abbott-looked so nervous that she might burst into tears at any moment. However, as soon as the Sorting Hat shouted out, "GRYFFINDOR!", she seemed as though the weight of the world was lifted off her shoulders. Harry clapped with the rest of the Gryffindors as the girl joined their table. The next student, another girl, Jamie Behns, was put in Hufflepuff, then one in Slytherin, and two in Ravenclaw. One by one the first year students went up to be told their houses. When Professor McGonagall called up an exceptionally worried and nervous looking boy, a Jeremy Shaeffer, Sareleine nudged Hermione.  
  
"That's my little brother."  
  
Looking at the boy, Harry saw very little resemblance between the two. The boy had short, smoky brown hair and small, blue eyes, nothing like Sareleine's wide indigo ones. Perhaps there was some similarity in their facial features, but Harry couldn't tell from this far back.  
  
After pondering the boy for a bit, the hat shouted out, "HUFFLEPUFF!" Harry saw Sareleine's eyes meet with her brothers. She smiled reassuringly at him, but the smile he returned was very weak. Harry just noticed how scared and out-of-place the boy looked.  
  
"It suits him," Sareleine commented. "I just hope he adjusts okay. He wasn't big on moving."  
  
"I reckon a whole sea's a long way to go," Ron agreed.  
  
"Don't worry about him," Hermione added. "Hufflepuff is a friendly lot."  
  
When the Sorting had been completed, Dumbledore gave his usual announcements-Forbidden Forest forbidden and Third Floor untimely death-and the feast had begun.  
  
"So you're a fifth year, too?" Ron asked as the four of them walked from the Great Hall to the Gryffindor tower. "What school did you go to before you moved here?"  
  
"Salem School of Magick," Sareleine answered.  
  
"Of course she did," Hermione added, "it's the best school for Witchcraft and Wizardry in the States. At least, that's what A Survey of New World Academies says. But I'm sure you haven't read that, Ron."  
  
"Oh, sod off, Hermione," Ron grumbled.  
  
"Oh, by the way," Sareleine added quickly. Harry guessed it was to quell the tempers of Ron and Hermione. "Y'all can call me Sarele if you want. Sareleine can be a mouthful sometimes."  
  
Both Ron and Hermione nodded, giving up what could have been a bit of a spat. Harry smiled to himself; he knew where Ron and Hermione's constant bickering came from. Even if they didn't.  
  
"Anyway, you ought to like it here at Hogwarts, Sarele," Hermione said, breaking the silence. "It's a good school. One of the best. Most of the teachers are really good, too. Unless you take Divination," she added in an exasperated tone, rolling her eyes.  
  
"And you'll want to watch out for Snape!" Ron warned her.  
  
"Waitaminute." Something just dawned on Harry. Dumbledore hadn't announced a new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. And he hadn't seen any new teachers at the staff table. "Who's the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher?" Ron and Hermione shrugged. Sareleine was lost. "I didn't see anyone new, and..."  
  
"Oh no," Ron groaned, catching on. "They wouldn't have given it to Snape!"  
  
"I don't know, but he sure has had his eye on it."  
  
"And they haven't given it to him," Hermione reminded them. "For four years in a row they haven't. I don't think Dumbledore would give him the position now... right?"  
  
Harry shrugged. "It does seem odd, though, doesn't it?"  
  
"Wait!" Sareleine interjected. "Who are you talking about?!"  
  
All three of them looked abruptly to her. They'd forgotten that she probably didn't know the teachers yet. "Snape is the Potions Master," Harry answered.  
  
"Yeah, real git," Ron grumbled.  
  
"He was sitting to the left of Dumbledore," Hermione put in helpfully.  
  
"Oh, black hair, about yea long?" Sareleine asked, gesturing to just above her shoulders. "And kind of pale-like?"  
  
"Yeah, that's him," Ron answered. "Great old bat."  
  
To all of their surprise-but especially to the surprise of Ron and Harry-Sareleine blushed deeply and looked down, a silly grin on her face. Harry's eyes widened; he'd seen that look before. But surely... not Snape...  
  
"What?" Ron asked incredulously.  
  
Sarele just shrugged innocently, the grin still there.  
  
Hermione's eyes were scrutinizing Sareleine, Harry could tell. "Don't tell me that you think he's... I mean, you're not... are you?"  
  
Again, Sareleine shrugged. "A little," she answered, her grin broadening. Looking at her, Harry noticed a strangely mischievous glint in her eyes.  
  
"Disgusting!" Ron exclaimed. "You Yanks must be mental! Trust me, by the time you get through just one of his classes, you'll want to kill the man. Real jerk, he is. Spends all his spare time thinking of new ways to harass poor Neville Longbottom."  
  
"Hm, well, most of the teachers are nice," Hermione amended.  
  
Just then they got to the portrait of the Fat Lady. She smiled kindly at them. "Welcome back to Hogwarts. And welcome to you, miss," she added to Sareleine. "Password?"  
  
"Golden lion," Ron said and the Fat Lady swung open.  
  
The first sound to meet their ears was the wild howling of a cat and the sound of at least two...things tearing across common room. A ginger streak of fur shot past them, followed closely by a streak of black.  
  
"Bloody!" Ron exclaimed. "What the devil-" but before he had the opportunity to continue, Crookshanks had landed firmly on top of his head. The huge cat looked absolutely petrified (which Harry figured Ron had a pretty good grasp of, as Crookshanks was digging his claws into Ron's scalp) and its large yellow eyes were fixated on the drapery in the corner.  
  
"Crookshanks? What's wrong?" Hermione dashed forward, scooping her cat up in her arms. Ron was very grateful.  
  
"That's odd," Harry said, looking around for what could have upset Crookshanks so much. He, at least, couldn't find anything that stuck out to him.  
  
"Actually," Sareleine started, a little nervously, as she slipped behind the drapes. "I forgot she doesn't much care for cats..."  
  
No one said anything, but Ron might have blinked.  
  
Sareleine emerged from behind the drapes a few seconds later. She had something small and black cradled in her arms. Getting a closer look, Harry saw what it was: a rabbit? It couldn't have been more than half Crookshanks size. Glossy black fur and bright lavender eyes.  
  
"She's a little aggressive," Sareleine told them sheepishly.  
  
"I think," Harry told Hermione, "that it'll be Crookshanks turn to keep a watch out this year, Hermione." 


End file.
